The Dragonborn Comes
by TheEndsongAbyssXV
Summary: A series of oneshots featuring the Dovahkiin and various characters engaging in acts of intimacy, which can range from soft and sweet to slightly violent. Based on the Skyrim Kink Meme. Any and all requests welcome! LIMITLESS CHAPTERS! R&R! (F!DB/Various) (M!DB/Various)
1. Marcurio

(I apologize in advance. This is my first lemon/sex scene ever and I have no idea what I'm doing. Partly due to lack of sensual inexperience in writing and in life and also because I just never felt inclined to make these kinds of stories. But there is a SEVERE lack of Marcurio smut and I felt that needed to be remedied. Read and review, and if ya want, leave a pairing request and I'll see what my muse inspires.)

(Also, am I the only one who thinks Marcurio could be Bi?)

...

By the Nine, it was hot. Steam wafted up from the vents in the floor and those set into the walls, filling the hallways and corridors with a thin sheen of water that coated anything it touched. The rush of water through the pipes was a let down, because the steam heated it to boiling proportions so there was no way to escape the heat unless they got out of the ruin. Which wasn't saying much because it was below freezing outside.

Death by heat stroke or hypothermia? Decisions, decisions.

The creak of Dwemer automatons could be heard here and there, and Aaliyah rose an eyebrow in confusion as one of the spider scuttled towards her and she flinched, aiming a well-placed kick with her steel-toed Netch leather boots, denting the face and cracking the glass dome on top, loosening the soul gem and sending it into the shadows.

"Don't get too far ahead," came a voice from the left and dark brown eyes glared at the other Imperial, but Marcurio only smirked in response.

"It would be easy to get lost is all, and you're not exactly a master of navigation."

Aaliyah turned a corner, completely ignoring her friend. She and Marcurio had been traveling together almost a full year now, and not once did Aaliyah regret the choice of hiring the wizard when she'd first arrived in Skyrim. She was looking for adventure but didn't want to be alone, but was also inexperienced and knew having capable back up was a must-have if she were to survive. Sure, Marcurio was a smart-mouthed know-it-all but the man knew exactly what he was doing.

Especially as he blasted a bandit who'd been hiding nearby with a bolt of lightening that sent the Redguard flying. Aaliyah snickered and looted the corpse, taking the lock picks for herself and giving the two flawless sapphires to Marcurio. He'd been hoarding precious stones lately, claiming he "knew-a-guy-who-knew-a-guy" who could triple the profit of them.

A skill that Aaliyah was all too familiar with. As the new Guild Master of the Thieves Guild, she was well versed in fenced items and turning a profit.

The woman sighed, running a hand through her sun-streaked brown hair. She was tired, the two having been hunting for a special dagger that Rune had been assigned to swipe but had lost in a skirmish. She desperately wanted a drink; water, beer, even that nasty Black-Briar Mead sounded alright. Despite being strong with the guild, Aaliyah did not like Maven or her family. Hemming was a complete tyrant, Ingun was a morbid, stuck-up bitch that cared only about her alchemy, and Sibbi was a great big bag of dicks.

Abruptly, she remembered hearing a story about Sibbi and his romantic conquests. The women he'd bring home while Maven was out, and the two times she's seen him (before he was arrested) going into Haelga's bunkhouse with a bottle of high-quality stamina potion.

"Marcurio," Aaliyah sped up to walk beside her companion.

"Hmm?" The man was engrossed in a book about the mechanics of Dwemer centurions and didn't respond immediately.

"How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

Marcurio turned to stare at her, eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?"

Aaliyah chuckled, "How old were you the first time you had sex?"

Marcurio's mouth opened slightly; were they really having this conversation? In the middle of ruin? Of all the random...

"If you must know, I had just celebrated my seventeenth year. I had too much to drink, and one thing led to another with a barmaid."

Aaliyah smiled, "That's not too young."

Marcurio's eyes slid over her face, "And you?"

"Huh?" Aaliyah's head snapped up so fast that her neck cracked. "Me what?"

"How old were you the first time?"

Aaliyah's smile was slow, soft, and just a teensy bit evil, and Marcurio watched as she waltzed off down a set of stairs, hands clasped behind her back as she hummed "The Dragonborn Comes" to herself.

...

Okay, now it was bothering him. Had she been really young? Was it without her consent? Was she still a virgin?

But those questions were for another time, because as soon as Aaliyah had turned the corner, the Imperial female screamed so loud that it reverberated off the walls and through the hollow metal lying on the ground, amplifying the sound further until Marcurio's ears were ringing.

But off he went, vaulting over a water pipe and into a throng of Falmer, who were happily going at Aaliyah with staffs and arrows. Oh, but she was on it, stabbing one straight through its neck and hacking at another until it gave out a guttural cry of pain and died. Two others went after Marcurio, and he hit them with magic while Aaliyah fired up a healing spell for him, removing the burn from one of the enchanted Falmer staffs

All the noise attracted more of the creatures and soon, the duo was up against a dozen or so Falmer, and both were running low on energy. Marcurio was about to suggest they try to make a break for it when Aaliyah's eyes began to glow.

No really, they were literally glowing.

She stepped in front of her companion, dagger sheathed, and as the enemy regrouped and came at her as a unit, she let out a cry that shook the very room: "Rii Vaaz Zol!"

A pulse of purple energy shot from the woman and slammed into the four closest Falmer, whose souls were ripped from their bodies and locked into the soul gems that rested in Aaliyah's satchel. After a few heartbeats, the creatures turned against the brethren and it gave Marcurio and Aaliyah the chance they needed to get to safety.

He took off first, grabbing one of the straps on Aaliyah's armor and dragging her back until she followed. They ran past the fray, ducking around walls and broken centurions and pillars until the noise of battle dimmed to silence, and finally, after what seemed like nearly an hour, they stopped.

Aaliyah's heart pounded to the point where she thought it would burst and Marcurio was laughing from exertion. They were covered in sweat, dirt, and the blood of their enemies as well as their own.

"I need to get this off of me," Aaliyah groaned as she wiped the blood from her neck. "If we can bust open a pipe I can-" Aaliyah seemed to have forgotten the whole conversation because she was suddenly busy trying to climb an automaton with a glittering dagger stuck between its shoulder joints.

Marcurio watched as she cursed and tugged at the weapon, standing close in case she fell. With an ear-grating screech of metal-on-metal, the dagger came loose and fell to the ground. But Aaliyah merely sat on the Dwemer automaton, eyes turned towards where they'd just come from. No doubt she was waiting for the Falmer to come back.

Marcurio chuckled, "If these ruins frighten you, take comfort in the knowledge that I am here." Aaliyah's smile got him smiling too as they laughed.

"What frightens me is how long it'll take to get out of here. I also am in fierce need of a bath." Aaliyah looked up at the water pipes latched to the ceiling and made a small 'hmm'. "Maybe I can make I can freeze the pipes to cool down the water so it doesn't scald us to death. I know I have some of the snowberry and mint soap that I ordered from the Khajiit, in my bag."

So that's what they did. Aaliyah stabbed multiple holes into the pipe above them and then used the Thuu'um to freeze the pipes, turning the boiling hot water into a less-deadly, tepid stream that fell like rain.

Marcurio was first, since he had blood on his face and in his hair, and he gratefully accepted a fresh set of robes and a bar of soap before Aaliyah sat on the floor as a guard, facing away from the man as he bathed.

Aaliyah decided she was too dirty to wait and used the pipe some feet away, partially hidden by a broken door, quickly stripping and allowing the slightly colder water to rush over her skin. Goosebumps popped up all over we body and her nipples hardened in the chill. She shivered violently before issuing flames to heat the water a bit. Her Thu'um had been too strong and she'd nearly frozen the pipes completely.

"So," Marcurio said, rinsing the sweat and Falmer blood from his skin. "You never answered my question."

Aaliyah kept her back to him, lathering the second soap bar in her hand. "I know."

"I'm waiting," he said after a few seconds.

"If you must know," she chuckled, quoting him, "I am a virgin."

Marcurio paused in his washing. He knew it was possible, but still surprised. "Oh,"

"Too many horror stories," she continued. "Never heard a story of bedding someone the first time where it wasn't agonizing."

She suddenly had an image of his hands on her and Aaliyah's face splashed with color. She didn't deny that she was maddeningly attracted to the wizard, but neither one of them had attempted to enter that territory. But she couldn't help but wonder...what would be like with him?

"I heard the same things when I was younger, but, and excuse me if it's too much information, I have also hear that if the man knows what he's doing, it won't be horrible the first time. But I'm a man myself, so I don't know."

Aaliyah ran her soap covered hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers ran over a lump from the initial fall she'd taken upon entering the ruin. She scrubbed the grime from her body until the sweet scent of snow berries lingered. She used a gentle flame to dry herself and covered her body with a clean, soft robe. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she had never been interested in relationships and those kind of things; she was too busy saving the damn world. She cursed the blood in her veins, wondering why she was the one who had to be Dovahkiin. Why couldn't she be a normal woman?

"Because then you wouldn't be you," Marcurio said, and Aaliyah looked up to see the man leaning against a pillar under a steam vent to dry himself and she realized she'd spoken out loud.

"But it isn't what I want." The words suddenly came out like dirty water, and she was unable to stop herself. "I want to be normal! I want to have fun and do mundane things! I want to have sex and be around people but I can't! Being the Dragonborn is dangerous! Anyone who gets close to me gets hurt or killed! I'm scared of the pain these things cause! I'm not as strong as everyone thinks I am! I'm afraid, Marcurio. I am fucking terrified!"

The man watched her for a while after she's stopped speaking, their eyes locked. She was angry, tired, and judging from the gleam in her eyes and flush of her cheeks, sexually frustrated.

"What would you do first?" He asked. "If you could give up being the Dragonborn, what would be the first thing you did?"

Aaliyah's eyes glanced around, like she was thinking. "Go to a tavern, get drunk, and find someone to bed me."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know what it-"

Marcurio shook his head, "No, I mean why get drunk?"

"So it doesn't hurt...?" Aaliyah tilted her head. "That's what scares me. Being in pain. Any pain. Emotional, physical."

"I've seen you get stabbed and you were fine," he moved to sit beside her. "Though I do understand what you mean." Aaliyah mumbled to herself in the dragon tongue and Marcurio chuckled.

"What if I showed you?" His voice was neutral, calm.

Aaliyah looked up, "Show me what?"

"That it doesn't have to hurt." Something flared to life inside of Aaliyah and all thoughts were swept away in a rush of want and need that left her breathless. Images burst into her head, things that she'd imagined from what she heard from others. People in taverns and bars often spoke of their sexual conquests in great detail and now all of those stories were materializing into a giant 'what-if?'.

His voice dropped an octave and a shiver ran up Aaliyah's spine, "But only if you want to. I assume you would feel more at ease with someone familiar instead of a stranger."

There was a few seconds of silence, and the way Aaliyah looked up at him through her eyelashes was damn sexy. "Show me."

...

Marcurio had never been one to develop affections for either sex, though he had bedded both at one point or another.

But Aaliyah was different.

It wasn't love, no, not at all. It was affection for the closest thing he'd ever had or would have to a best friend, and he'd be damned if he allowed her to experience some of the more delicate and frightening things in life by herself. Let alone with a stranger. Okay, so maybe he was a little possessive. But that was because, as strong as she was, Aaliyah was naïve and lacked some forms of common sense. So if she needed help, he's be there.

But he suddenly found himself wanting this not just for practical reasons, but because he wanted her. Aaliyah wasn't beautiful, or the kind of woman that would turn heads, but she was attractive. She was lean and athletic, her body defined by tight, slim muscles from all the weapon wielding and fighting she did. Her hips were slim, and her breasts small, but she never seemed to care much for appearance. Aaliyah was all about adventure. Getting dirty and having fun. She could kill a giant with a few arrows, slay a dragon with a well-aimed slash of her blade.

But sex and affection?

She looked so confused at the moment.

Marcurio watched as she bit her lower lip, head turning towards the gate where they'd escaped the Falmer. "Have you ever kissed anyone?"

She smiled and almost laughed, "Yes."

"Who?" He rose an eyebrow, curious about her reaction to the question. His hand found her robe and he pulled her against him, and she chuckled a bit.

"Tell me," he said, mouth trailing up her neck. She twitched and sighed.

"You can't laugh,"

He inhaled the scent of snowberries and nodded, "I won't."

"It was Lydia."

He pulled away, "Your housecarl?" Aaliyah's face reddened and she nodded. He lifted her up then, placing her on top of a fallen pillar so that she was level with him, and they leaned in at the same time; mouths meeting.

Tongue probably wasn't necessary at this point but there was no stopping that; her mouth brushed against his and the tip of her tongue flicked against his lower lip and then he took over from there, pressing against her smaller body as her hands threaded through his still-wet hair, her short blunt nails gently digging into his scalp. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her ankles crossing and keeping him close. They separated and his mouth trailed from her lips to her jawline to her neck, where he nipped and nuzzled, relishing the soft sighs that left Aaliyah's mouth.

On their own accord, her hips shifted, and she desperately wanted any friction she could get, but apparently Marcurio wasn't going to allow that because he stepped away from her.

Ooh, the little growl that came from her throat was not why he'd expected from the petite Imperial but it sent a shiver of lust running through him and as he pinned her beneath him, he hesitated.

"Are you sure you want-" That was as far as he got before her mouth was on his and her hand palmed his erection. "Aaliyah-!"

Fuck, his voice was so guttural it was almost like he was growling. But that small confident smirk on her face sealed the deal. If he kissed her again, there was no going back. There was some other force driving him now, this was not just about sex or taking her virginity; this was something cosmic that he didn't question.

Mine, he thought.

That fucking robe didn't stand a chance. Jacking up onto his heels, he gripped the lapels and split the navy fabric right down the front, baring her breasts to his eyes and the hot air. In response, she arched gently and moaned- and that was it: He was on her mouth with his and down to her core with his hand. He was slow, easing into the touches so he didn't scare her, but Aaliyah was into it as much as he was, hips rolling as his thumb stroked the small bundle of nerves at the top. Gods above, she was so ready for him, slick and soft and just as desperate, given the way her thighs sawed together.

"Marcurio-" Her voice was absolutely wrecked and they hadn't even gotten to the main event yet.

"I'll go slow." He said against her mouth. He shifted himself and his cock rubbed against the hot, wet center of her and oh, fuck...he nearly came. Not just because it had been so long since he'd been with anyone, but because it was her.

Aaliyah thrust up with her hips at the same time he eased into her, shoving him all the way in to the hilt. Aaliyah went utterly rigid and hissed venomously, and Marcurio bit back a groan, the penetration utterly and irrevocable complete. She was right as fucking bowstring and as hot as the steam on the room, but damn-

"Aaliyah, what the he-"

She winced and let out a laugh, "Don't know. Just want you."

He kissed her again, giving her a few seconds to adjust to the invasion, and then he rolled his hips experimentally against hers and she whimpered, head going back and nails digging into the hard stone beneath them.

Fire lanced through her veins, the pain liking to a slow burn that began to morph into something else that she couldn't describe. And it only increased as Marcurio suddenly shifted into a sitting position and took her with him, her legs parting over his so she was straddling his lap.

She seemed confused for a second so he guided her hips gently with his hands, and she took over from there, grinding her pelvis and getting more of that hot, delicious friction that she craved. Marcurio dragged her closer, mouth brushing against hers and then pressing small nips to her neck and throat, one of his hands drifting down to stroke her clit while she rode him.

Annnnnnnnnd there was that little growl again.

He moaned as her body tightened around his cock but she slowed, like her body was ready but her mind couldn't assimilate what was happening.

"Marcurio-"

"Let it happen," he groaned, "you're about to come. Focus."

Aaliyah's vision darkened for a second as the get else to a crescendo and then suddenly, the world exploded: colors burst into front of her eyes and she gasped sharply, her body tensing, and Marcurio reversed them again, thrusting in deep and pulling slowly, and her name left his mouth as his own orgasm came, the pleasure shooting up his spine and nailing him in the back of the head.

Total. Silence. The world was gone and nothing mattered.

After a few moments, Aaliyah let out a giggle and Marcurio rose and eyebrow at her in confusion.

"What?"

She bit her lower lip and smiled, "Can we do that again?"

He laughed, groaning a bit as he pulled away from the warmth of her body. "I think we should bathe, first. And get the hell out of this gods-forsaken ruin. I want to cart some of this stuff and send it to Cyrodiil for study."

Aaliyah nodded, "Bath first."

He smiled and helps her up, pressing his lips to hers once more, "Bath first."

...

The end! Was it good? PLEASE TELL ME!


	2. Vilkas

Got a PM requesting dominant!Vilkas/M!DB, so here ya go! Gelebor/M!DB is next! Keep sending requests!

...

Under normal circumstance, they would have been out in the field, hunting down a stolen artifact or rescuing some poor sap who got kidnapped by bandits for Talos-knew-why, but now...oh, no. He just _**had**_ to go and get them trapped in a giant's camp. Three mammoths and two of the lumbering humanoids were just a few dozen feet away, and if Vilkas hadn't seen it, he never would have believed it.

Actually, he would have.

The Dragonborn let out a war cry and charged, his Dwarven axe raised high as he hacked and slashed at the furry feet of the nearest mammoth, which trumpeted in anger. But either Darien didn't care, or was amused. The Breton was firing spells now, blasts of sparks and frost shooting from his gloved hands and peppering one of the giants in the chest. The larger one moved towards him, club aloft.

One of the mammoths rammed at them with its tusks but Vilkas swung his blade and hit the creature in its flank. Blood sprayed from the wound and Vilkas knew it would die from blood loss soon, so he left the creature and raced to aid his companion. The other giant was swinging it's club at him now, and Darien, the little shit, was cheering as the second giant lumbered away. The Dovahkiin, savior of the world, gave chase, cackling as his weapon moved with blurring speed thanks to a well-timed Shout. The giant gave a mighty bellow as it died and suddenly it was silent, save for the gentle tap tap of snow on trees.

Darien turned to Vilkas and grinned. "That was fun!"

Vilkas's eyebrows crashed down. He wouldn't say it was 'fun', exactly, but it was a good workout. His heart was pounding, the rush of adrenaline a pleasant burn in his veins. The cold air felt against his heated skin, and Vilkas swung his head to rid his hair of snow. Darien was wiping his blade on one of the corpses and gave the older man a grin, teeth flashing.

"Hey Vilka-"

WHAM!

Vilkas slammed his fist into Darien's face, sending the young Breton to the ground. "You stupid boy!" Darien Licked his busted lip and frowned up at his shield-brother in confusion. Vilkas was livid, his voice a low growl that sent shivers up Darien's spine, but he couldn't decipher which kind they were; fear? Lust?

He listened to the man rant about endangering their lives like it was a game, almost getting them killed. They were strong, but even the Companions didn't take on a full heard of mammoths if they could avoid it. Especially is there were giants involved.

"It was a stupid thing to do and nothing good came of it! There's no loot to be had-"

Darien pointed at Vilkas with a smug smirk on his face, "What's _that_ then?"

Vilkas looked down and openly snarled at Darien. One of the side effects of being moon-born was the increased sense of feeling, and fights often led to sex in Jorrvaskr. Skjor and Aela would often claim to go out hunting, but he knew that they snuck away to the Underforge to release their pent-up aggression from the day's missions, and he knew that his brother had a girl in the city that he could be with. But Vilkas usually dealt with the issue on his own.

Until the whelp showed up one day.

Vilkas was so caught up in his thought that he hadn't noticed that Darien had snuck up behind him and it wasn't until the younger male nuzzled the back of his neck that he realized how turned on he really was. His erection throbbed as Darien nipped at his skin and started pulling at the clasps on his wolf armor.

"I'm sorry?" Darien said. The little shit didn't sound sorry at all.

"You _will _be," Vilkas growled softly, but Darien was too busy undressing him to hear. Abruptly Vilkas turned, shoving Darien to the ground and pinning the blond. Darien struggled, but Vilkas was stronger and he leered at the man beneath him. Darien's chest was heaving, his eyes wide, but Vilkas noticed that the boy too was flustered. His teeth had sharpened slightly, and his eyes were darker, glazed with lust, if the hard line of his cock pressing into Vilkas's leg was anything to go by.

Gripping the straps on the chest of Darien's leather armor, Vilkas tugged sharply, busting the material apart. Darien gave an indignant squawk of rage but as soon as Vilka's tongue made a path up his stomach and torso, the growl turned into a moan and Vilkas chuckled internally. Darien was submissive and playful by nature, but he had his moments where he liked to be the dominant one. However, this was not one of those times. Vilkas continued; nipping, kissing, nuzzling the blonde's throat.

He bit down.

"What the hell!" Darien tried to throw off his lover but Vilkas weighed more and it was useless.

"You disobeyed me, whelp. And insubordination is punishable by the Companions." The silver eyed man growled, and Darien chuckled nervously, trying (in vain) to scoot out from under the wolf. But Vilkas caught the lithe figure beneath him and dragged him back so they were face-to-face. "Where are you trying to go?"

Darien rolled onto his stomach, army-crawling away. And Vilkas let him for a moment until Darien's soft rump brushed against the crotch of Vilkas's armor. The older man growled low in his throat and Darien made a mad scramble to move, kicking up snow and foliage as he ran. Vilkas watched, eyes narrowed, his ears picking up every beat of his prey's heart.

A game, was it?

Darien jumped over a hollow log and turned around the cluster of stones. Breathless, turned on, and slightly afraid of Vilkas, he hid in the shadows. By the Three, the man was relentless! He could always use a Shout to slow the Nord, but even in his most agitated state, Vilkas never hurt him.

In a bad way.

Darien thought about the last time they'd been together; in a Forsworn camp near Markarth. Darien had been wrathful in that battle, the man he was supposed to save had been dead when he'd reached the leader, and no force in Nirn could have held him back. After giving the cave a new paint job with the entrails of the Forsworn, his rampage had been stopped by a fierce kiss from Vilkas, to proceeded to fuck him senseless. Sex was a great way to work on aggression, especially when it was two men whose wolf's had claimed each other as mates.

Darien let out a soft groan as he recalled the sensation of Vilkas slamming into him, holding his wrists above his head hard enough to hurt. There'd been bruises, scratches but he didn't care.

Abruptly he was ripped from his reverie as Vilkas pounced, pinning the Breton to the cold, wet ground. "I could hear you. Smell you."

Darien gave a laugh, "I know-" he groaned as Vilkas grinded his erection against his ass. "For the love of Mara, _take me already_!" He cursed. Wasting no time, Vilkas tore the remains of his armor off, but he didn't want to fully claim the boy yet. Darien was to be punished, not rewarded. 

It was lucky they were out in the middle of nowhere, because the cry that left Darien's mouth could have woken everyone in Jorrvaskr if not all of Whiterun hold. But Vilkas merely chuckled as he ran his tongue over Darien's cock, up his stomach, nipping his thighs. His skin was shivering from the cold, but lust always brought a heat that drowned out everything else.

Vilkas's mouth was specifically made to please. And yell at people. But mostly designed to bring pleasure. It had to have been. Darien let out a strangled curse that vibrated the ground beneath them and Vilkas pulled away with a sharp-toothed smirk.

"On your stomach." he said firmly. "_Now_."

Darien complied with no grace whatsoever, flopping into the snow on his belly, and the only warning he got was Vilkas's fingers digging into his hips before driving himself in. Darien resisted on instinct, but as soon as he relaxed, Vilkas fucked him into the ground. The hard bark of a log was chafing painfully against his ribcage but Darien didn't care. Didn't care about the small bites of pain from his love's ails, teeth, any of it. All he cared about was being manhandled.

_I have got to piss him off more often, _the man thought, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as Vilkas thrust into his body at a heartless pace. His hand drifted down to grasp his own cock, stroking with the same ferocity, moaning, crying out, damn near screaming, especially when Vilkas reached down and helped jerk him off faster.

"So," Vilkas thrust in hard, making Darien's vision blur. "What are we not going to do again?" Darien opened his mouth but all that came out was a hoarse moan of ecstasy if Vilkas ever heard it. _By Talos, whores could take lessons from him._

"No m-more giants. N-n-n-no more mammo-_don't stop, why are you stopping_?!" Vilkas chuckled darkly as his name left Darien's mouth on a scream that shattered the peaceful silence of the forest. Two deer raced by in alarm and a rabbit took off into the bushes. They came at the same time, Vilkas plunging in to the hilt and growling into the crook of Darien's throat while the blond bit down further on his abused lower lip.

Darien was a shivering, sweaty mess and Vilkas was proud at how absolutely _wrecked_ the Dovahkiin looked; blond hair sticking to his forehead, beads of sweat all over his body. He mumbled something incoherent and then sat up, wiping the melting snow from his skin.

"I should disobey you more often." he grinned, and Vilkas's eyes narrowed.

"Next time the punishment won't be fun."

Darien sucked the blood from his mouth and smiled in a way that make Vilkas's heart race. "Then I'll just have to fight back."

Without another word, the man scooped up his belongings and ran off, disappearing into the forest.

With a heavy sigh, Vilkas followed.


	3. Serana

_Fucking. Vampires. _

The bastards were popping up everywhere now, looming out of the shadows, fangs glinting in the light, red, gold, glowing eyes shimmering in the darkness. They varied in rank, but their mission was always the same: kill. Their arrival was heralded by screams, words of anger, flashes of spells and the clang of swords as the townspeople-victims-fought-in vain-to defend themselves.

The Wood Elf sighed, obsidian eyes tracking the edges of the forest, watching for any sign of movement. No rustles from the bush, no stench of cold, rotted flesh. The ground at her feet was littered with corpses of already fallen vampires, the surviving townspeople of Rorikstead crowding the paths to the town to get a better look. The dead were hauled away and disposed of, and once again she was off, walking through the plains, not following any particular path, just trying to get away from the questions that would no doubt be hurled at her by the guards.

The Dawnguard didn't give her enough credit for her job. She wasn't paid enough for raiding caves and slaying the creatures that dwelled within by the Jarls. Not to mention all of the Dragonborn nonsense she had to put up with, what with Alduin _and_ Miraak! With an aggravated snarl, Anariel Rosegrove pivoted towards a thicket of trees where two Frostbite spiders were creeping towards her and she sucked in a breath, her Thuu'um pulsing out of her body: "_Fo Krah Diin!_"

They froze. And the second her dagger touched them, the large arachnids shattered, the shards glittering like diamonds in the dying sunlight.

"Feel better?"

The low, smoky voice instantly took all the stress from Anariel's body. She sagged against a tree, and the leaves brushed against caramel skin, soothing her like a mother would its child.

"Serana," Anariel turned to her companion, who was standing next to the remnants of a small home, the scent of wood smoke filling the air, and making her grimace. A summoning gone wrong, by the looks of it.

The vampire didn't speak, just waited quietly for Anariel to explain the violent outburst. But she already knew. She always knew. She knew in the way that Anariel's eyes would change color, shifting from the darkest of browns to a hue tinged with blue, knew it in the way her hands would flex, her strides becoming faster, her heart skipping beats as the dragon blood inside her festered her anger. Wood Elves were peaceful by nature, but as of late, Anariel had become less like herself and more like her Alter cousins: short tempered, haughty, cruel.

But it a façade. And Serana knew it. Anariel knew that she knew.

"I'm just exhausted. Running too many jobs at on-" she frowned, ears twitching.

Serana heard it too; a low roar that grew in volume as they headed closer to the mountain canyon past the Nightingale Hall.

A dragon.

Serana looked up at the large reptile, trying to remember which species it was based on the color of its scales. Anariel had explained it to her once, and as it grew closer, she hoped it was one of the ones that merely "checked up on" them from time to time. They ran into dragons often, but not all of them were hostile. If their challenge went ignored, they flew off.

This one was orange, with a long, flat body and a broad tail. A Revered dragon. It was powerful, and it would be better for them to evade it, but there were no caves they could dart into, and Serana knew that Anariel wouldn't want them to lead it towards a farm or town.

"Zu'u jur hi, mal Fahliil!" the thing bellowed, and Anariel readied her bow.

"Nahagliiv," she breathed. "I do not wish to fight you!"

Fire shot from its gaping maw, and Serana fired a few ice spikes, which merely bounced off its steel-like hide. They weren't going to have much choice, it seemed. And she was already exhausted, she didn't want to fight if she could avoid it.

Gouts of flame came at them and they separated, Serana going left while Anariel went to the right. And of course, the dragon followed the Elf, who was firing arrows and cursing in Dovahzul, but Nahagliiv only taunted her, firing a blast of energy at her that slammed her into the hard rocks.

So she Shouted back.

Her Soul Tear hit him dead in the chest, but it wasn't enough to kill him. He was weakened, and Anariel summoned her Thuu'um twice more, her elemental fury moving her blade with preternatural speed while her Dragonrend brought him to the ground with a thunderous crash.

With a roar, he collapsed as her daggers sank into Nahagliiv's throat. He was dying now, and was too weak to fly off. But Anariel did not relish the victory. Instead she touched her forehead to the dragon's neck, whispering in the language only he would know.

"Zu'u los krosis, zeymah dii." She sounded heartbroken, and as the strength of his sould flowed into her, Anariel fell to her knees in the soft grass, tears falling down her cheeks, cutting through the grime and blood.

Serana knew.

She had the blood of a dragon, _was_ a dragon, in some respects. And every time she had to kill one of them, it was like killing a friend or sibling. And it hurt.

The Bosmer stood, sheathing her dagger and the walking off towards the broken bandit tower they'd cleared out before entering Rorikstead. Serana followed, knowing that nothing could be said to ease the pain, but wishing it could.

There was a small river down the hill, and the woman made a beeline for it, stripping her clothes as she went, and all but dove into the water. Serana cleaned herself as well, wiping her skin down with a wet rag. It was nearly an hour before Anariel emerged, and Serana handed her a clean tunic and doeskin pants. Her armor would be scrapped, burned. Just plain leather, and they could always craft more.

Once they'd settled inside the tower, Anariel lay her bedroll out and fell onto it, not bothering to eat or say anything. The elf sighed, and Serana walked over to her, brushing a hand over the close shaven side of her head, while the flop of mahogany hair fell over the other side.

Anariel surged up, claiming Serana's mouth with her own. The vampire was surprised at first but then eased into the kiss, allowing the other woman to tug at her clothes until she was naked.

There was no preamble at all, Anariel forced Serana to lie back, and then she cocked her legs apart, shimmying her body above her slightly taller companion. She needed a distraction, and sex worked wonders.

Serana let out a sigh as hands ghosted over her skin, and she groaned as she caught sight of Anariel's mouth licking a path up her thigh, pressing kisses to her belly, and then she lowered her mouth to her core, her tongue laving slow strokes over her clit, while two of her fingers found her own, her thumb circling the bundle of nerves.

Serana hissed as that sinfully talented tongue slipped into her a bit, gently probing, and then went right back to suckling on the most sensitive part. Anariel cursed suddenly, and Serana shifted up, pulling Ananriel to lay beside her, and she chuckled.

"Don't stop, keep going," she said, watching as the Bosmer fucked herself on her hand, moaning, arching, biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, which Serana promptly leaned down to lick off.

"Serana-" Anariel rolled her hips, and suddenly her hand was brushed away, replaced with Serana's, two fingers sliding through slick folds and going deep, while her mouth trailed up a tanned throat, nipping but never hurting.

Faster with the thumb, and Anariel shivered, a moan leaving kiss bruised lips. "Harder-" and Serana complied, thrusting her fingers, curling them, amused and proud that she was getting such a response from the other female. Anariel grinded her clit against Serana's thumb, moaning, and then she pulled away, moving back to that sweet spot between the vampire's thighs, kissing, licking, sucking, the sting of small blunt teeth on her skin making Serana cry out.

Anariel kissed a path up sweat slicked skin to a chorus of moans, once again claiming lips with hers, while her hand drifted down to finish what she'd started.

She came with a ragged cry, and Serana's fangs scraped down her neck, hands curving over slim hips, chuckling.

"Feel better?"

Anariel sighed as the slowing pulses of post-orgasmic bliss shifted over her, and she stretched, a small yawn leaving her. "Yes." she opened her mouth to add something, but was cut off by a deafening roar that made her jump.

_Fucking. Dragons_.

Serana was already dressing, "Shall we?"

The smile that made its way to Anariel's mouth was slow, and just a little bit evil. "What if it makes me depressed again?"

Fangs scratched a path of desire up the smooth column of her throat, and Anariel groaned. "I'm sure I could remedy that."

…

TRANSLATIONS:

1\. **Zu'u jur hi, mal Fahliil:** I challenge you, little Elf!

2\. **Zu'u los krosis, zeymah dii: **I am sorry, brother mine.

…

Read and review, please! And all requests are welcome. Hope you liked it!


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